They will be askedwhat they didwhen their nation died outslowly,like a sweet firesmall and alone.

No one will ask themabout their dress,their long siestasafter lunch,no one will want to knowabout their sterile combatswith “the ideaof the nothing”no one will care abouttheir higher financial learning.

They won’t be questionedon Greek mythology,or regarding their self-disgustwhen someone within thembegins to diethe coward’s death.

They’ll be asked nothingabout their absurdjustifications,born in the shadowof the total lie.

On that daythe simple men will come.Those who had no placein the books and poemsof the apolitical intellectuals,but daily deliveredtheir bread and milk,their tortillas and eggs,those who drove their cars,who cared for their dogs and gardensand worked for them,and they’ll ask:

“What did you do when the poorsuffered, when tendernessand lifeburned out of them?”

Apolitical intellectualsof my sweet country,you will not be able to answer.

A vulture of silencewill eat your gut.

Your own miserywill pick at your soul.

And you will be mute in your shame.

What is the role of the Academy (intellectuals) today? What has the role of the Academy been historically? What is the Academy? These are big questions that should be answered on a regular basis in conversation with each other. I think of helicopter researchers that drop down, collect data, and fly off. I think of the state of our world, my country, my family, my friends, and strangers. I think of Nelson Henderson’s often repeated “meaning of life is to plant trees, under whose shade you do not expect to sit”. I contemplate climate change and the realities of the suffering that will follow, and how they will mostly be felt by people of color in countries that are less developed according to Western standards. This is particularly relevant as March 22, 2018 is World Water Day, and water is one of the resources most important for survival and most affected by climate change. I recall my visit to South Africa for a conference of young leaders from around the world working for justice. The conference was held at Stellenbosch University, which was referred to as the brains of Apartheid. I think of all this, and I question my decision to enroll and actively pursue a role in the Academy. I am reminded of why I chose to continue my engagement with the Academy when I attend my courses, the lab meetings at the Community-AID, and meet with my advisor. In those contexts, there is space for learning about ways we can further the dismantling of oppressive power imbalances and historical inequities that have dominated traditional research in the Academy. I have come to the conclusion that being a part of the academy while having a commitment to justice, does not necessarily mean foregoing justice. However, our membership in the Academy as community psychologists should have an undertone of a dialectic conversation, which means weighing the options and the outcomes of those options; thinking about thesis and antithesis of our continued relationship with the Academy. We must be reflective about our position in the broader historical context of injustice and ways we leverage our positions to either dismantle or enforce the oppressive status quo.​ I chose community psychology because I saw the opportunity to bridge my experiences with psychology and peace studies. This field is one that does not require nor suggest that I should be apolitical. Rather, I can engage in research that is guided by my experiences and with the goal of correcting injustices and inequities. Despite my conflicted feelings of being part of the Academy, I see the potential to engage with community members and serve as a bridge by which the distinctions between the Academy and broader society are dismantled. Though I have yet to come to a conclusion of whether this is the most effective path in my pursuit of justice, I do also realize that this is a path that will likely lead to more security in my personal life and future. Sustaining the possibility of my work for justice in the future and equipping me with the skills needed to shift structures of injustice. I don’t know if I will come to a definite answer concerning my role in the Academy as a mechanism for change or a means by which I am complicit. I will conclude this reflection with Audre Lorde’s prominent “the master’s tools will never dismantle the master’s house.” Can we bring about justice through the Academy, in spite of a foundation of sexism, racism, and elitism? Is this what an academic critical consciousness would like?